


No Saints, Only Sinners

by FloodFeSTeR



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a Softie, Comfort Sex, Comforting Dean, Comforting Sam, Crowley and Feelings, Dean is In Over His Head, Demon Dean Being an Asshole, Demon Dean Winchester, Distraught Reader, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Oral Sex, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam is a Saint, Scared Dean, Scary Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Triggers, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloodFeSTeR/pseuds/FloodFeSTeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a pregnancy test in the trash, some missing memories and a reader that remembers every detail of her assault.</p><p>She's forgiven him, but can he forgive himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, been sitting on this for a looooong time and its uh. . .something.
> 
> Enjoy~

There was a pregnancy test in the trash and usually he doesn't bother with actually looking in the trash but. . .that bright pink fucker stood out like a neon sign in the dead of night.

Dean stared at it for the longest time, the trash lid shaking as he held it up by his foot on the lever. It was half buried beneath paper towel and one of those utterly horrible omelets of Sam's.

His tongue ran over his bottom lip and Dean looked around the room, like the answers would come to him or was in the room with him.

Against his better judgement, Dean bent down and grabbed it between his fingers, not even caring which end was which at this point because there was a dangerous little plus sign and it made his heart stutter.

"Sam!" Dean bellow, letting the lid clatter shut as he took a step back. "Sam! I need you in here right now!"

He set the test down on the counter, brow deeply furrowed as he waited and tried to. . .comprehend this, he supposed. It couldn't be. . .she didn't ever. . . _no._

Sam burst -- quite literally -- into the kitchen then, eyes wide and bewildered; he even had a gun in his hand. When he realized Dean wasn't in trouble, he almost looked annoyed as he slouched in on himself and lowered the gun.

"Dude," Sam griped and took a couple of steps into the kitchen. "I thought you were being _attacked_ ," his eyebrows puffed into his bangs.

Dean pursed his lips slightly at Sam, flicking the pregnancy test in a small circle that danced closer to Sam. Sam looked down at it, setting the gun down on the counter and placing both of his hands against the counter on either side of it. His lips parted and he cocked his head, looking just as lost as Dean was staring at it. When he looked back up at Dean, he looked absolutely baffled and if this were any other situation, Dean may have laughed at the expression.

"What the Hell is this," Sam finally barked.

  
Dean shrugged. "I-I don't know," he rubbed the back of his neck and then rolled his eyes, waving his arm widely at it. "I mean. . .I know what it is but how it got here. . ."

"I have a few guesses on that one," Sam mumbled in a gruff manner, grabbing the stick as boldly as Dean had before he turned for the door. "_____!"

"Wha'," you yelled from your bedroom, basically throwing your phone at your headboard; it only slid under a pillow.

You jumped up from the end of your bed and ran a shaky hand through your hair, giving a very audible gulp as you trembled. It'd been more than a hard morning for you and you just wanted to crawl into bed, but. . .Sam never called your name like that, so something must have been wrong. Did you forget to put back one of the guns from practice; you had done that before and caused a panic because it was Dean's favorite, his Colt M1911A1.

The whole bunker bout went insane, that's what you were getting at.

You could hear them inching closer and closer, boots echoing around the halls and making you jump each time they hit. They even sounded angry as they walked. . .this couldn't possibly end well.

You weren't necessarily scared of the Winchesters; they were big teddy bears -- that immediately contracted rabies if prodded the right/ wrong way.

You peeked up from under your bangs, chewing vaguely on your bottom lip as the two giants completely covered your bedroom door. Were you not so nervous, the two of them struggling to get through the  door at the same time may have been funny, but the annoyed looks on their faces silenced you.

Dean pushed through first, stumbling to a stop just inches from you and glaring back at Sam; he just rolled his eyes. When Dean looked back down at you, you adverted your eyes and rubbed your arm self consciously.

  
"Hey kiddo," he said it soothingly, just like when you has first met him. . .

  
Hiding beneath your own mothers corpse.

' _Gonna get you all fixed now, don' you worry about a thing_.'

You'd known then. . .you would need up liking this man as more than a friend.

There has been such an instant flood of relief and warmth from this stranger; he had lifted you into his arms and whispered gently to you the entire ride to the motel. He'd fixed you up and told you what would or could happen.

The choice was up to you.

And you chose to run away with Dean Winchester and his baby brother.

"______" you looked over at Sam at last, eyes widening significantly at the tip of pink you saw clenched in his hand. "Is there something you need to tell us," he didn't sound angry, he sounded very concerned; his face betrayed that though.

Your lips parted and hesitated, eyes flickering between his and up to Dean's, your stomach was in all kinds of knots. You began to shake your head but stopped and looked down, wrapping your arms tight around your middle. What could you say? How could you say what they already knew? You'd put that away in the kitchen specifically because no one ever looked in the trash in there -- it had a lid, just step on the pedal and be done with it. But someone had just stumbled upon your bad luck and looked inside the trash.

"I'm pregnant," you whispered softly, tears pricking the edges of your eyes when you shook your head. "I-I was going to --"

"Get rid of it," you looked up at Dean with a bewildered expression. "That's what you were gonna say, right? You were gonna sneak out and get rid of it?"

Your jaw bobbed. "I don't know what I was going to do," you mumbled. "I-I can't bring a kid into this world! I know what's out there now and I -" you shook your head. "I'm pregnant," you said desperately. "Y-You don't know how _scared_ I am!"

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and crying silently. The boys didn't say a thing, the only sound they made was the shift of flannel shirts and creak of work boots.

You'd been feeling sick, couldn't really go by your period thanks to its erratic schedule but you knew it had been a fairly long time since you had seen that raggedy bitch. And the weight. You'd always maintained a healthy weight, never a sports model or anything close but the extra weight wasn't chub like you were used too -- this was smooth, hard weight.

And you had known, took the test to be sure. . .

You startled when Dean pulled you hard against his chest; you wanted to sink into that warmth, his smell and everything about him but you remained very much wrapped in yourself. Sam sighed from behind Dean, soon having his hand placed against your shoulder.

"You have been moody," Sam muttered. "But that was none of my business. . ." He sighed again. "Do you uh. . .do you know the father?"

_And here's where things get a little hairy . . ._

You tugged back from Dean a little, which earned you a confused looked from the man but he said nothing. He dropped his arms like a child whose teddy bear is ripped from its arms, looking slightly lost; he didn't know the half of it.

  
"That's a little complicated," you mumbled, shaking your head softly.

* * *

_It's been. . .maybe a month or two since Dean's body disappeared._

_You'd known it was going to happen, even told Sam not to be shocked but maybe he didn't understand you through your tears when he had brought the lifeless body of his brother home._

_He was cut up and clean but. . .dead, he wasn't Dean. He was just a shell of the man you loved, but had never loved you back -- and that was one of the most painful things, that you had never. . .gotten to tell him anything._

_Maybe that was why you had left the bunker, left the grieving Sam Winchester to his brothers things. He hadn't cried since he brought Dean in; the moment the body was gone, he had become stoic, emotionless, looking for clues because he knew what was going to happen now._

_Dean Winchester was a demon, and a Knight of Hell at that._

_He had the First Blade, he had power and he still had the Mark on his arm -- a ticking time bomb wandering around out there._

_You couldn't stand it and had left, petting Baby in a loving way and wishing you were in the passenger seat, Dean was driving and singing Metallica while you smiled like an idiot. But it was just you and a rumbling engine you had to kill once you reached the cemetery._

_It wasn't to be symbolic or anything, it was just the only place in miles that didn't smell like sulfur and wasn't open to the public. You had to climb two guard fences to get to the other side and the silence was just what you needed._

_Your boots hit soft dirt with a near silent pat and the moon was enough to go by with the long path stretched in front of you; so many Hunters and Men of Letters had been buried here, you'd always showed interest in unique carvings in the headstones and crosses that adorned dead grass._

_Your nose still tingled with tears and your cheeks were wet, but you had known what would happened and grieved immensely in advance._

_Metatron. . .that piece of unholy shit, you'd kill him yourself._

_And Cas, had to find Cas, maybe he could fix this or. . .something. . ._

_"Knew I'd find ya here," your spine curled and Goosebumps erupted over your skin. "Always were. . .pretty predictable sweetheart."_

_You looked up and back, down the path you had just pushed through in the brush. A tall, broad figure stood in the middle of the path, his face slowly illuminated by the cloud letting through moonlight._

_You turned around completely, feeling ice in your veins as he sauntered slowly towards you. "D-Dean?"_

_He smirked and leaned forward, a slow blink giving a familiar wet sound and all you saw was black. "The one and only, baby."_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I thought this would take longer to get out but nope, here we are.

_You stumbled back at the sight of inky black eyes, your heart hammering out the grief from you._

_Dean just continues to grin, hands tucked deep into his pockets and. . .very much not the Dean you knew and loved. His canines stuck out more than before, when they really did stand out and there was just something about that usually panties-dropping grin that scared you more than the eyes._

_"Aw, c'mon babe," you quivered for all the wrong reasons but took several quaking steps back from him. "Don't be like that, thought you were missin' me."_

_"N-Not this Dean," you sputtered and whimpered when your back connected with the ground. "Please - Please don't hurt me, Dean. I-I know you're still there."_

_He cocked his head, a menacing half smile on that usually beautiful face. "Now," he started as he crouched down at your feet. "How do you know I'm still the Dean you fingered yourself too at night, hmm," you tensed, nails digging into the dirt at your hips. "Oh yeah, baby girl, Dean-o knew all about you and really enjoyed the way you cried out his name to an empty room."_

_Your heart stuttered but you didn't say anything to that, just suddenly flipped yourself over and tried to scramble away. Your fingers slipped through the dirt and so did your sneakers, eyes set on. . .something, you didn't know where you expected to go but anywhere was better than here; you shouldn't have went out alone._

_You screamed when two hands wrapped around your ankles. Your chest hit the ground and dull pain shot up through your neck, intensifying when your chin hit the dirt. Your vision swam and your eyes rolled, tasting blood on your tongue and this dull ache in your jaw._

_This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening! Dean would never hurt you!. . .but this wasn't Dean, this was a demon._

_You whimpered when he grabbed the hem of your jean shorts, pulling your hips up so you were on your knees._

_"Wh-What are you doing," you dug your fingers into the ground and squeezed your eyes shut tightly._

_Your whole body hitched and jumped forward when there was a sudden foreign pressure against your normally untouched, covered sex. Your whole body trembled when Dean boldly inhaled, a rumbling in his chest when he nuzzled closer. You whimpered and closed your eyes tighter, wiggling your hips and letting out a loud whine when his hands moved to your thighs and spread your legs further._

_"Stop!" You begged and tries to pull away again but the inhuman growl that came from his chest stopped you. "Please Dean, stop!"_

_"You smell too fucking good, baby," he mumbled and reaches for your shorts again. "Fresh, virgin pussy -- now, what kind of demon would I be if I didn't get some of that? And you. . .well, you just pretend I'm the same old Dean and this can be good for you."_

_"N-No," you begged again, tensing when cool air hit your pussy. "D-Don't!"_

_He chuckled darkly and you felt fingers probing your clit -- which was traitorous and sensitive enough to make you gasp. Your eyes rolled towards the sky, the dark trail ahead; all you found were head stones illuminated by moonlight._

_"Knew you'd like that," you gasped again, this time for the way his fingers drew up between your folds and applied just enough pressure. . ._

_You pulled forward, wanting to get away from his hands, away from him, not get confused about what was going on. It felt amazing, to finally have Dean Winchester touching you just how you wanted him to, to see you as more than the awkward tag along. But this was. . .this was Dean Winchester, the Demon. This was nothing but him being what he was -- a demon._

_"So fucking tight," he groaned as he slowly stroked a finger into you, your muscles constricting painfully around the appendage. "You ready baby girl? I'm about to give you just what you've wanted."_

_"Not like this!" You sobbed and sputtered. "I-I didn't want it like this! I didn't want you to rape me, Dean!"_

_"I guess you'll just get what I give ya, huh," he snickered darkly and you heard his buckle rattle, knew what was coming._

_You were rocked back and forth, leg pulled out of one of the holes in your shorts so he could fit in just right. And then you felt it, that blunt head that you now feared in the deepest parts of you._

_He only added a slight pressure and you felt yourself spreading over him, felt the stinging pain in your muscles. There was no more room for dirt to gather beneath your nails but you added to the gouges in the dirt around you when he rocked forward again._

_It was such an uncomfortable pressure, but with his slow adjustments, you hates that you were beginning to feel something -- if only for a moment._

_"You are so God damn tight, _____," he groaned and ran a hand up your back, gripping your hair and pulling your head back slightly. "There we go," he mumbled and then tore into you completely._

_You screamed loud and long, tears positively pouring down your cheeks by now at the pain. He seemed to like it, giving out a low, breathy moan you had always wanted to hear -- but not like this! Your pussy clenched around his cock, making the pain worse but you couldn't stop it; it was like your body was trying in vain to get him out of you._

_"Alright baby girl," he pulled out slightly and you whimpered. " 'm gonna need you to scream for me some more. . .can ya do that?"_

_You didn't say anything, just screamed like he wanted without your permission. He drew out slowly and then slammed into you again, making you cry out and jerk forward. He groaned and grabbed your hips, beginning to pull you back against him at whatever pace he liked._

_There was so much pain and something -- blood, most likely -- seeping down the insides of your thighs. It was nowhere near what you thought losing your virginity would feel like -- but, what girl expects to get raped by someone who was supposed to protect her?_

_"Ah!. . .Ah!. . .Aaah!" You cried out, dropping from your elbows to your face, huffing into the dirt._

_It wet from your tears, smearing up your cheek and down to your jaw, slick and aching just like his assault._

_Dean was grunting behind you, swelling inside of you and jerking you against him like a rag doll. To make things worse, it seemed God had a cruel sense of humor because you came. It was weak and barely there but there was still a bit of pleasure and he noticed the way you convulsed around him, gave that pitiful little cry. . ._

_"Almost there, baby girl," he tugged your hair back and pulled you up, back against his chest. "Feel good, hmm? You like my cock inside of you? The tearing? You're a kinky little bitch aren't you?"_

_You shook your head as his hot breath wafted over your face. "No, Dean," you whispered._

_"Oh fuck, ______," he breathed into your ear, hips giving their final jerks up into you._

_He came with what could only be described as a roar, holding you tight against him before he dropped you all together. You slid off of him like a limp noodle, giving a strangled cry as you fell against the ground; everything hurt, you had blood slick on the insides of your thighs._

_"Son of a bitch," Dean panted, chest heaving as he watched you twitch and try to sit up. "We're close enough to the bunker right," he questioned as he redid his buckle. "Think I'm gonna take Baby. . .you can walk," he grinned as he stood, the epitome of power. "Maybe."_

_You looked up at him through the tears and the look on your face was only betrayal. He winked and tucked a hand into his pocket, bow legged walk exaggerated as he whistled his way away from you._

_After only a couple of blinks, you were bathed in light from the Impala and you let out a single, strangled sob as Dean drove away._

* * *

Dean blinked slowly at you, head slightly cocked and. . .unable to comprehend what you had just said.

"What," he whispered, hands hesitating around your upper arms.

You swallowed thickly and wiped at the tears on your cheeks. "Y-You. . .you're the father, Dean," you gave him a desperate look. "I-It was after Metatron and you --"

"I didn't sleep with you, _____" he said in that gruff voice, looking slightly annoyed but still in disbelief. "After Metatron I was a --"

"Demon," Sam whispered.

You nodded and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth. "Dean I -- I don't blame you."

"What did I do," he whispered and sounded so truly broken that you let out your own sob. "_____, what did I do? You're not lying, are you? I-I got you -- how?"

You shook your head and slouched out of his arms to the edge of the bed, shaking your head again. "I. . .I went out after you disappeared a-and you found me. . ."

"I raped you," he said bluntly and looked. . .disgusted. "I raped you. . .and now you're pregnant."

And yet another head shake from you, your legs shaking beneath you as you stood. "D-Dean it wasn't you," you insisted, grabbing the fabric of his shirt. "Dean, that was the demon and it wasn't you! I-I'm not blaming you!"

"Jesus Christ," Sam whispered and raised a hand to his forehead. "I-I can't believe this --"

"He didn't do anything," you insisted, giving Sam a scolding look through puffy eyes. "He even said he wasn't you," you looked back up at Dean. "I swear to you -- this baby is not your problem. Not if you don't want it -- what do you want, Dean?"

He looked between you and Sam with panicked eyes, shaking his head slightly. You were afraid, you were afraid of what he would say, if he would beat himself up -- what he would say to you. On one hand, you never wanted kids, not yet anyway, not like this. But. . .you also didn't want to get rid of it -- it was a baby inside of you, one chance at doing something right.

Dean swallowed thickly, fingers prying yours from his shirt. "I. . .I don't. . ." He licked his lips. "I don't know what to do," he whispered and he sounded just. . .so broken. "I have to process this," he turned. "I'm sorry."

You dropped your hands as you watches him stalk out of the room; he held his hair tight in his fingers. You hiccuped and cupped a hand over your mouth, looking up at Sam with teary eyes. He shook his head and dropped the pregnancy test, moving forward to grab you up into his arms.

"He'll come around, _____" he mumbled into your hair.

You didn't say anything, just grabbed tight to his shirt. . .tried to anchor yourself, make the numbness in your limbs less.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point the titles switch from 'her' to 'you' and I feel bad about that but it seemed to be the only way to go about this. And let me apologize for the absence, I just got Fallout 4 and I have not stopped playing since.

You stared down at your toes painted your favorite color, stretching and curling them through the fluffy leopard print blanket stretched out over your bed.

A heavy sigh fell from your lips and you wiggled your chin where it was cradled in the crook made by your knees, arms tightening around your legs to keep them close. You lifted your eyes from your toes to the door, wishing someone would come in; anyone, it didn't matter anymore, you were just tired of sitting here alone.

Of course, it was your fault you supposed, after Dean had left your room -- and the bunker -- you had basically kicked Sam out of your room. You had wanted to be alone, but not for this long. It'd been hours, with you pacing your floor nervously, crying mutely, trying to figure out just what the Hell you should do.

You should have just. . .gotten rid of it, should have gone and taken care of the problem. But something had stopped you, as cheesy and typical as that sounds. You just couldn't finish that damn call, could hardly get past the Kansas city area code. Maybe it was an angel, maybe it was fate, destiny or whatever the Hell you wanted to believe but here you were now, clueless and scared.

And pregnant.

You shook your head, stretching your legs out over the bed and threading your fingers into the blanket around your hips. Your nerves were beginning to frazzle again where you had just come down from your near panic attack. 

Why did it have to happen like this?  
You liked Dean -- like really, really liked Dean and had always entertained some insane little thought that maybe he would or even did like you and maybe -- just maybe -- something could blossom between the two of you, but fate had other plans throwing the curve ball of Cain at the both of you.

Dean had always been a little bit of a loose cannon, that was a given, but when that Mark had cropped up, things got worse. He was a little more crass with you, a little more open about sex and even making some very suggestive and embarrassing references that made Sam snap at your defense on more than one occasion; you had always just sat quietly in the corner, you didn't want to be in the middle of that confrontation should it had turned physical.

Then Dean died.

Nearly every sweet, tender or fond memory you had of him had been wiped out, replaced by the white moon and his bruising fingers. He'd shaken whatever bit of confidence you had conjured up and for the love of God. . .you wanted it all back. You wanted that confidence and bravado the very man had helped you work on; Hell, you couldn't even hold a gun right anymore, you shook too much. 

You shook your head fiercely, slinging your legs off of the bed and stomping towards the door. You pushed it open, brow creased in worry as you paces the bunker, looking for some sort of life. You found nothing after twenty minutes, screaming out Sam's name and becoming frustrated when you received no answer. There was always someone or something here; should you all for Cas? No, no he had enough to worry about with Dean and Sam alone, he didn't need this bundled up there.

A trembling breath pushed past your lips and, after you retrieved a jacket, you made your way into the garage for your car. You hardly ever drove anymore, Dean was usually shuffling you all over the place and. . .never complaining.

You were feeling sick again.

You rubbed a hand under the hem of your shirt, pressing gently to the swell of your belly; what the fuck were you going to do? Options were scarce, you were afraid Dean would never talk to you again, which made your head go extra crazy and skip straight to the two of you never talking again, you having to leave. . .

You clenched your fingers tight around the steering wheel, shaking your head. No, no that would never happen, right? You and the boys. . .you were. . .inseparable, always had been, promised you always would be.  
But, demon or not, Dean blamed himself for raping you.

"Green means go, sweetheart."

You screamed and jumped in your seat, eyes bugging as you whipped your head towards the smirk. "Crowley," you growled/whined and dropped tour head against the steering wheel. "Y-You scared the fuck out of me," you released an aching breath.

He chuckled and you groaned slightly. "Out an' about on your own," he mused. "Where are our dear Winchesters, hmm? You nevar leave their sides," he paused at the desperate look you gave him. "Oh, well who screwed up this time? What do I have to mop up for you?"

There was a massive amount of hesitation from you, and when you managed to speak, it was a strangled whispered. "I'm pregnant," his eyes grew slightly. "I-I'm fucking pregnant and. . .Dean knows, I-I don't know where Sam is either and. . ."

The relative silence in the car was punctuated every now and again by your hiccups and sniffs. Crowley remained silent, didn't even shift in his chair and you were glad he didn't do anything. Crowley wasn't a bad guy, really, but he was a demon and you got everything you expected from him; it really confused you when Dean, Sam or even Cas were shocked he betrayed them or what have you. 

Were they daft?

"I thought the whole point of me lobotomizing Dean's memory was so he didn't know what he did," a bit of annoyance in his voice. "And now he knows, and your pregnant? Do you know how to do anything on your own?"

"I fucked up, okay," you barked. "I fucked up big time and now he's. . .he's beating himself up and I don't want him to do that, Crowley, you have to help me fix this, just one more time help me fix Dean and this situation and I swear I won't bother you again."

"That's what you said last time, darling," he sighed and looked out the passenger window. "But I suppose I could help, for some compensation."

You ignored the tremble of fear you gave. "What is it? Crowley, you have to help me!"

He gave you a bored look, which made you want to grind tour teeth; he hummed. "Well, since you asked so politely," he drawled. "We'll discuss the details later, they aren't that important to the here and now."

You furrowed your brow slightly but nodded. "O-Okay," you mumbled. "Just. . .help me, Crowley."

* * *

_Everything hurt, everything was cold, the headstone you leaned against even more so._

_You didn't know how long it had been since Dean had left with the Impala, but it had to be hours judging on how far the moon had created through the sky since then._

_You winced as you pushed against the ground, trying to sit up a little but only failing as you expected. You let out a series of pants and hisses of pain as you resigned yourself to remaining where you slouched. No phone, no ride, too far to walk and too painful to move your legs, this night couldn't even be described in words on the level of suckiness._

_"Well, what do we have here," you tensed, squeezing your eyes shut tighter as the accent rolled over you. "A wilted little flower, how sad."_

_"Shut up, Crowley," you snapped, lifting your head with an effort. "If you're not gonna help, piss off."_

_He cocked his head and slowly crouched, annoying you with how close he was and also making you nervous with the energy he was giving off. You couldn't point it out, really, but something just seemed a bit off and you just couldn't deal with that right now._

_Though, you didn't have much of a choice, to be honest._

_"What happened, little flower," he questioned and, dare you say, there was genuine concern in his voice. "You look as though you tangled with a real nasty monster."_

_Your lips seemed to seal on their own, your hips twisting despite the pain to try and get away from his fingers that prodded at your bloody skin. He looked up at your from under his brow, a darkness making his irises a faint shade of red._

_"What the bloody Hell happened, _____?"_

_"D-Dean," you whispered. "Dean raped me! He was black eyes and all and he. . .Crowley, for the love of God he fucking r-raped me!"_

_And you cried._

_Sobs that's wracked your frame and swelled your eyes with tears. You dropped your head back and trembled at the sky, fingers digging into the dirt as you cried inconsolably._

_It was like it was happening all over again, the image and sound of him, his smell and the pain -- it was all bursting behind your eyes and nose again, causing your body to twitch and convulse. Were you having a panic attack? You were surely having a panic something, whatever this was it was scaring you even more and your heart hammered out the concern and replaced it with cold, hard fear._

_You jumped back into awareness at the soft touch on your hips, a small cry coming from your lips as the slight twinge of pain that came from where Crowley was holding your skin._

_"Wh-What are you doing," you whimpered, trying to twist away from his hand and failing. "Crowley, stop, it hurts!"_

_You whimpered and did as he said, watching with creased eyes as a few of the knocks and crescents from Dean's nails seemed to sew up right in front of you. You peered at Crowley from beneath your brow, his dipped brow and confused expression -- confusing expression? Yeah, that sounded better._

_When he pulled his hand back, you released a sigh of relief and slouched against the stone again, giving your right knee a testing bend and found it was only slightly numb; no pain._

_"Why'd you do that," you whispered, eyes closed._

_There was a small whistle in the wind. "I may be a demon, but I am a gentleman. Leaving a lady in pain isn't right. And Dean will --"_

_"No," you jolted back into full awareness, heart fluttering and eyes bugging. "No! No, you can't talk to Dean about this! You just can't, when he comes back h-he'll hate himself!"_

_"When he comes back," Crowley snorted. "Not even a real Winchester and you have that stupid hope and drive," he sighed._

_"Crowley," you ground out in an insistent tone. "You can't. . .you can't let him keep that in his head. You have to help me."_

_"Help you," he looked appalled. "I already know what you're goin to ask and wouldn't that really be helping Dean?"_

_"Both of us," you shook your head. "Crowley, please, just this one favor and I'll never ask or meddle for or in anything ever again."_

_He gave you a skeptical look, eyebrow arched and fingers flexing where they balanced, perched on his knees. "And what's in this for me," he hummed._

_"You get to howl at the moon with him without hindrance," you felt a punch to your gut. "I. . .I can try to throw Sam off your track for awhile but you know how persistent he is."_

_"Doesn't seem like a very good offer to me."_

_"You don't get my soul," you said firmly. "Dean Winchester, a demon, with the Mark of Cain -- a good dog to have on your leash, no?"_

_God, how you hated talking about Dean like this but. . .you couldn't have him come back and hate himself for what he did to you. There was no telling what he would do if he found out, so why not nip it in the bud right now and please a demon while you were at it? He did help you after all, a trade for a trade. . .for a trade._

_"And what will you do about that," his eyes flickered down to your stomach then back to your eyes. "Should something pop up, what then? I can't erase that."_

_You reached up and looked down, giving your stomach a sorrowful glance. "I can handle that on my own," you murmured._

* * *

"What exactly is your fucking problem?"

Dean nearly choked on the shot he was trying to knock back, cringing as more than a drop made it into his windpipe. He slammed the shot glass down and then smacked his chest, giving Sam a bewildered look; his brother was as unmoving as ever, arms crossed over his chest and face firm.

"What exactly is your problem," Dean snapped back, watching the timid bartender refill his glass; half of the eyes in the bar were on them. "And how the Hell did you find me?"

"I found the closest bar," Sam shook his head and slouched into the bar stool beside Dean; a joint glare turned all attention away from them. "Dean, ______ is back there freaking out, you have to handle this."

"I doubt she wants to see me," Dean mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You're exactly who she needs to see right now," Sam hissed, glancing at the bartender from beneath his brow; she squeaked and nearly ran away with the whiskey in hand. "Dean, you two need to work through this, figure out what you're gonna do -- yo can't let her handle this on her own, it'll drive her crazy."

"Its my fault we have to do this in the first place," Dean snarled, slamming his fist down onto the bar. "I raped her, and you want me to go back and talk to her?"

"Yes," Sam shook his head. "She doesn't blame you, Dean and she wants you to help her figure out what to do. She just needs you to drop the anvil, man -- help her!"

"I would listen to Moose, you dumbass."

Dean and Sam's heads snapped up to the sound of Crowley's voice, finding the very man staring at them blankly. His hands twitched in his coat pockets, swaying towards the boys without his usual swagger.

Dean straightened himself, fist clenching on the top of the bar; Sam glared beneath his brow. "What the Hell do you want," Dean growled. "Thought I got rid of you."

Crowley chuckled. "Such endearments from my bestie," Dean rolled his eyes. "I came for our mutual little friend, she's having quite the time with this whole pregnancy thing. Shame, too, because she promised she could handle that if I took care of you."

"What the fuck are you talking about," Dean snapped, turning all the way around.

Crowley's eyebrows shot up. "Oh right, you don't remember. . .hmph, well, I put so much work into scrubbing that little rendezvous from your brain and she couldn't follow up with her end of the deal. I'm afraid we had to make another one so she could have the courage to fix this whole mess on her own."

Dean's eyes grew and he kicked off of the stool, snatching Crowley up by his collar and hauling him inches off of the ground. The bar went silent, Sam watching from behind Dean in slight worry but Crowley looked almost bored, maybe a little concerned, but there was too much amusement to get past.

"What the fuck did you do to her," Dean asked lowly, breath hot between his teeth.

Crowley rocked his head back and forth. "She's dealing with the problem, like I said," he hummed. "If you wanna stop her, go stop her," he raised his hand, holding up a small slip of paper between his fingers. "Here's where she is, you might want to hurry."

Dean dropped Crowley back onto his feet and snatched the paper away, stomping out of the bar. Sam hesitated, looking down at Crowley with a strange look on his face.

"Why'd you come and tell him," Sam questioned. "You put in that effort to make him forget, did all of these favors for her -- so why?"

Crowley shrugged. "I like the kid," he paused. "And she and I have a deal, she told me to fix this, so I did."

"And the price," Sam furrowed his brow. "She'd never give you her soul."

"Oh, its not her's I'm after."

* * *

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

God, she was so fucking stupid. Did she really think. . .what could she possibly think? He had run out on her when she was begging him to help her decide what to do, she had every right to be this distraught.

She'd made a fucking deal with Crowley, she had to be a bit off of her rocker.

Dean shook his head and plowed through the stop sign, receiving the tail end of a loud horn because of it. It struck his hand out the window, middle finger to the window before he grabbed the steering wheel again and turned down the next street.

What did he plan to do? Why did he plan to get there before it was too late? He'd raped her, he'd caused this whole gigantic mess and yet he. . .

"Fuck me," he grumbled and sighed when the pale, cream building came into view; a fake wreath in gold and green was hung on the sign.

His heart had never beat so fast in his life as when he stepped out of that car.

He could say it was his fault, hate himself for what he did, scream and kick, deny it or what have you but when he saw you stepping out of those double doors, tears shining on your face and legs shaking, he felt every bit of him drop from beneath his feet.

You saw him frozen on the sidewalk and you really started crying, wrapping your arms around your middle, eyes begging as he slowly began to you her.

"______" he murmured. "What did you do?"

You shook your head, pleading him with your eyes. "I'm sorry Dean," you whispered. "I-I'm so sorry. . ."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah I know this is really late in an update but I apologize and I hope this is good. 
> 
> Excuse any spelling mistakes, I proof read this several times before posting but I also wrote this super fast so. . .

Sam will be pacing the garage when Dean pulls up.

He'd been there, pacing and worried, waiting for the both of you to come home. Had you done it? Or was Crowley pulling their legs? Had Dean done something stupid, or was it you this time?

Whatever had happened, he was relieved to see the both of you getting out of the car, even more relieved to see you lean against Dean as you both ignored Sam and headed inside. He tried to follow, but the hushed whispers between the both of you made him stop.

He picked softly at the loose threading on the seam of his jeans and paced back towards the library, running a hand nervously though his hair. Two hours and he seemed more nervous than the two of you.

Okay, maybe that was just a broad assumption.

He looked up whenever he heard the heavy footfalls of Dean approaching and immediately those assumptions were dashed because he had never seen his brother looked so conflicted. . .or maybe he was in pain?

All the calm from moments before were gone and he was clenching his hair, rustling his shirt, pacing wildly back and forth in a tight circle. Sam didn't speak, he waited patiently for Dean to. He silently watched his brother scrub his head back and forth, rake his nails through his hair. Dean gave Sam several desperate looks, so close to speaking but also so far.

"Dean," Sam started slowly. "What happened?"

Dean finally stopped, leaning against the back of the chair in front of him. He looked almost like he didn't quite know how to say what he needed to, his tongue darting out hesitantly across his bottom lip several times before he inhaled sharply and took a calming breath.

"She's keeping it," he admitted and Sam sighed, nodding softly. "She got in there. . .said it was just all too cold and she panicked."

Sam nodded again, arms tightening over his chest. "And how do you feel about that," he rolled his eyes at the look Dean gave him. "And yeah, I just said that - but Dean, this is important. I mean. . .Dean, this will be your kid."

"I know that," Dean snapped. "What do you expect me to do, Sam, I'm gonna help her in anyway I can."

"That's not what I asked," Sam leaned forward. "Dean, how do you feel about this kid? You can't help her right. . .if you don't want it."

"I do," cue that desperate look again, pushing off of the chair and tugging on his jacket. "I want the kid, okay? I. . .I want this damn kid, even though it - it _shouldn't_ exist and it does because of something totally fucking awful I did. She wants it and I. . .what am I supposed to do? Tell her to get rid of it? Force her to make that decision? No. . .no, I'm not gonna be that guy. I can't do that to _______. I just can't."

Sam stared at Dean for a long time, much to the mans frustration. He didn't want to be stared at, he wanted his brother to talk to him, tell him what to do because Sam was the level headed one. Sam always knew what to do, knew what to say to make Dean feel better. But would he really be able to tell him what to do in this kind of situation? Its not like it bad ever happened before, Dean was usually as careful as can be.

But demons weren't.

That night the demon knew you would die.

Thank God he was wrong.

"Then I guess we're having a baby," Dean looked up, arching a skeptical brow and Sam gave him a look. "What? I wanted to say it and I did."

Dean sighed heavily and looked towards the bedrooms. "She admitted she was still scared of me," he murmured, looking back towards Sam and releasing a shaky breath. "Said she was. . . _terrified_ of me, but she. . .she didn't want to be."

"She has her rights, but she does know it wasn't your fault, Dean and you should know it wasn't either."

"Yeah, yeah I know the crap by now," he shook his head. "But this is something I can't fix," he paused. "I mean, I can try, but I know nothing will work."

"Unfortunately, the line is 'time heals all wounds', but this might scar," Sam walked around the table, clasping a hand on his brothers shoulder. "You can start trying right now, by helping her with whatever she needs. And if you two are really doing this. . .she's gonna need a lot of help."

Dean shrugged Sam's hand off of his shoulder, looking like something gross had touched him. "Whatever ends this mushy crap," he paused. "But I know, I know," he sighed. "She said she just wants to ignore it tonight, so I'm following her advice and getting a beer and hiding in my room."

Sam snorted as Dean slapped his shoulder roughly but didn't say anything else, staring at the corner of the table until Dean's footfalls faded.

* * *

It wasn't a ball of mental instability you were coiled in tonight, it was just one of comfort. Your eyes flickered around the edges of your bed, a sigh puffing up your chest before you closed your eyes.

You hadn't wanted to admit to Dean how scared you still were of him, but it had just slipped out. After screwing up so much on your part, you just couldn't hold it in anymore. You'd been so caught up in blubbering about how sorry you were, how you hadn't went through with the procedure - and he'd yelled at you.

To be honest, you had forgotten how this would effect Dean. You figured some self hate was in there, but you didn't think he'd get mad that he thought you actually went through with it.

He wanted the baby.

He wanted you.

_"I know its fucked up but. . .it scared me, _______."_

Yes, yes it was very fucked up, so incredibly fucked up.

But you'd cried, and not from your own fucking failure this time.

You jumped when there was a soft knock at the door, pushing the tears from the corners of your eyes and praying they weren't too blood shot. You swiveled off the edge of the bed and shuffled towards your door, stumbling over your own socks. When you opened the door, you were relieved to see Sam there; but you would have preferred Dean at the moment, despite earlier telling him you wanted some alone time to process this.

_No commitment._

"How ya holdin up," Sam questioned as he shrugged into your room.

You shut the door softly and sat beside him on the end of the bed, shaking your head. "I don't know, to be honest," you whispered. "Today has just. . .been a little too much, ya know?"

He nodded, eyes on the fingers you strummed on you knee. "And I still think that's an understatement," he looked up to your eyes. "You really want this kid, huh?"

That caused a small smile for some reason, had since you and Dean had made some sort of peace in the car. You didn't know what to feel at the moment: Relief, terror, sickness, happiness. Your head was a war zone and nothing was really. . .sinking in.

"Yeah," you nodded softly. "Yeah, I really do," you paused. "And Dean. . .Dean said he wanted it too, I'm not being selfish about it."

Sam chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. "I'm glad your both seeming a bit better than earlier," you nodded. "We can all handle this, all in it together and that jazz."

You chuckled softly. "I'm happy. . .I really am. Terrified, and he knows. . .but I can't say I'm unhappy about this. Its gonna be more than tough. . .but I think we can all do it."

"If nothing gets in the way," his voice dropped in seriousness. "What deal did you make with Crowley?"

You stiffened against his side. "Uh," you swallowed thickly and pushed off of him a little, mostly just lifting your head. "Don't worry about it," he gave you one of those looks, one that would make you piss your pants if you hadn't already done so thanks to being terrified about this whole pregnant thing. "No really, don't worry about it," you sighed. "Its stupid to be honest."

"________. . ."

"Seriously," you stressed. "Its the dumbest deal anyone besides him has ever made, okay?"

"Why do I not believe you?"

"Because, after all these years, you suffer from extreme bouts of paranoia and suspicion."

"Thank you doctor."

"Any time."

Sam rolled his eyes and stood, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "You promise this won't bite us in the ass?"

You shrugged. "I don't wanna make too many promises but no, no this will not come back to bite us in the ass."

He nodded. "Alright, alright I trust you," he paused at the door. "Get some sleep, okay?"

You nodded softly, twisting the hem of your shirt in your hands as you stood. It really was a dumb fucking deal, but. . .whatever it was with Crowley regarding you, you were very grateful for it at the moment.

"I'm grateful for Crowley," you shook your head. "Its gotta be the end of the world."

You sighed and fell back into your sheets, blinking slowly up at the ceiling. You would love to talk to Dean right now, but that would kind of be pointless if you were being honest with yourself. What could you say that hasn't already been said, admitted and promised? You two hadn't shut up in the cat, this would just end in a repeat of your discussions earlier.

"Sleep," you said firmly. "I need at least a hundred years of sleep and I'll be good to go."

You were pretty sure you'd barely get two hours.

* * *

"This is a very bad idea."

"Aw c'mon, I can handle this," you murmured into the phone, cradling it between your ear and shoulder. "Just don't tell him I'm here yet, don't wanna ruin the surprise."

"He's gonna be pissed, you know," you could hear Sam fire his gun on the other end, a muffled bang.

You shrugged even though he couldn't see it and reared back, slamming your boot into the center of the door. It splintered and you grumbled when your foot hit the ground but reared back and slammed it again, one more time for good measure. You squeaked when your leg went through, splintered wood digging into your thigh. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears when you saw the vampire inside, grinning widely at you with those shark-like teeth.

"Aw fuck," you shoved the barrel of your gun through the hole in the door, firing more times than you cared to count if only to make the vamp stumble. "Okay, maybe you were right."

You could hear Sam laugh before you shoved your phone into your pocket and jerked your leg back. Fabric tore and you felt the wood carve a quick line in your thigh but you didn't let it stop you from grabbing your machete from where it was on the floor. You limped back and swung up when the door fell open, only managing to get through half of his neck. His head lolled back, bile rising in the back of your throat when you saw exposed flesh and bone.

"Oh that is _nasty_ ," you snapped and swung again, watching his head roll in a short circle before the body dropped.

You twisted your leg to the side and hissed at the blood slowly soaking down the fabric of your jeans. With a shake of your head, you grabbed the gun and put it away in your pack before you started to limp through the house.

You hadn't hunted in two months and you blamed Dean completely for this. No, you didn't exactly jump for joy at being out in the field, but you had been cooped up in the bunker for way too long and had to get some fresh air.

Even if you did end up with vamp blood all over you.

You screamed as you drove your machete through a female vamps neck, blood splashing out and hitting you in the throat before you roughly jerked the machete to the right and severed her head. You stumbled forward with the momentum and started limping through the hallways again, seeing an assortment of beheaded, bloody bodies as you went. You'd arrived second to the party, so it didn't surprise you that there were so many vamps dead. It was a huge nest to be honest, so rare for where it was located but you didn't mind.

After all, you had the Winchesters just within shouting distance.

You raised your machete when a door flung open just down the hallway, breathing a small sigh of relief when you saw Sam. He was just as clean as you were, and had the exact same smile when he saw you, dripping machete in his hand. He looked around quickly before he approached you, giving you a small hug.

"How many did you get," he questioned.

"Not nearly as many as you, obviously," you chuckled. "Where's Dean? Upstairs?"

As if to answer you, there was a loud thump from right above your heads and a puff of dust rained down into your hair. You dusted your hair out and cringed when you heard the boots coming down the stairs, tempted to hide behind Sam.

Yeah, like he would save you.

When you saw Dean at the end of the hallway, even covered in too much blood to be attractive, yet he pulled that off anyway, you wanted to smile. You hadn't seen the boys in. . .Hell, going on two weeks now. He was angry, you were excited, it was an odd little mix going on especially since he was stomping towards you right now.

"Dean, I know you told me to stay home but I just couldn't -"

You tensed when that sticky, dark red hand slid beneath your shirt, over the growing swell in your belly. Your cheeks heated beneath the cold blood and you heard Sam chuckle behind you, which didn't help at all.

"Dammit, you could have gotten hurt ______" Dean grumbled, looking down at your face. "What the Hell were you thinking?"

"I wanted to get out of the bunker," you mumbled, fingers flexing around the machete handle. "Its been almost two weeks, things get kind of boring without you two around. . ."

"You could have called Cas," he sighed and started walking down the hallway.

You pouted, falling into step behind him. "But I wanted to see you two! Plus Cas is kind of acting all icky about my stomach, like I'm a science project."

"He really is all weird about it," Sam chimed at your back and you smirked at the back up. "Come on, it'd be nice to have a little change around that cramped ass motel."

"Yeah, speaking of cramped ass motel," Dean grumbled, snatching up his own pack from the front porch. "You're sharin a bed with someone."

"That's fine," you chirped, smiling at the look Sam was giving his car. "Yeah, I used your car, deal with it," you opened the driver side door. "You wanna drive her back?"

His eyes flicked to Dean's back as be approached the Impala's trunk and he shrugged. "Actually, yeah," Dean gave him an odd look over his shoulder. "I can finally listen to some music I like."

"Your music sucks," Dean snorted, ducking his head into Baby's trunk.

"Says you," Sam took the door from your hand. "I'll see you both back at the motel I guess."

"Roger that," you gave him a half-handed salute, shuffling awkwardly towards the passenger door of the Impala. "His car smells like soy beans."

Dean snorted loudly at the back of the car while you watched Sam back out of the dirt driveway. "I told him that but he didn't listen. Dude needs an air freshener."

"Well the Impala smells like blood."

There was a pause. "So anyway, you're not off the hook for showin up here."

You rolled your eyes. "Dean, come on, I wouldn't have taken the risk if I couldn't handle it and you know that."

The car rattled as he slammed the trunk shut and he sighed as he opened his door. "Fine, fine."

You chuckled softly beneath the rumble of the engine. "I know you were just worried," you couldn't tell if he was blushing a little or if that was just blood. "I thought it through, okay? I don't want anything happening to it either."

"Uh, its a boy," he said firmly, like he was trying to change your mind about it.

You frowned. "No. . .its a girl."

"Trust me, I know its a boy."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest and twisted your body to face him better. "Oh, and pray tell, how do you know this?"

He raised his chin a little. "Gut instinct."

"You know, I have that too."

"Well, yours is wrong."

* * *

_"but each time we talk I get the same old thing_

_always no hugg-ee no kiss-ee until I get a wedding ring"_

"That is the nerdiest song I think I've ever heard you listen to."

You rolled your eyes, shifting a tad awkwardly as Dean joined you against the Impala's trunk. "At least its not as nerdy as whatever that crap he's listening to in there," you scoffed, giving the open motel door a questionable glance.

Dean chuckled and nodded softly, raising the beer to his lips and sighing. Comfortable half silence, punctuated by the softly playing music from your iPod that was lying on the trunk. You had been stuffed in that room a little too long for your freedom trip, escaping to the outside world when you were sure they wouldn't notice. Then Sam started playing this music and. . .you were one hundred percent sure he was playing it to fuck with Dean.

"You feel okay?"

You blinked slowly and looked up at Dean, finding a soft, curious gaze on you; how dare he look like that. "Yeah," you placed a hand over the significant swell in your stomach. "She's getting big fast. . .I hope its just one."

"Oh God. . .I forget about twins."

You sighed and looked up at the sky. "I doubt its two, could just be a big baby, its not unusual."

"But there's nothing usual about the three of us," Dean chimed with his eternal pessimism.

And you sighed, as you always did with him and just grabbed your juice and started silently swilling it down.

All these months and you two still couldn't have a normal conversation about the child growing inside of you. It took a lot of crying and food to get to terms with what was happening with you, going to happen. But Dean had promised to be there every step, Sam agreed too and you didn't even want to talk about Cas; like you had told Dean, he was treating you like an experiment. None of it was bad, but he was hovering like an annoying mother hen and you needed some space from the over enthusiastic angel. It had been cute at first, and you were thankful for his more than adequate care with the baby, but for the love of God. . .

"So, you ever gonna tell me about the deal you made with Crowley?"

You rolled your eyes. "Dean, seriously, its nothing. Its eternally stupid, just let me handle it."

He gave you a suspicious sideways glance. "You know, the only reason I'm not bothering you too much about this is because I know you're not stupid, right?"

"Could've fooled me," you muttered and then rolled your eyes again at the look he gave you. "I know Dean," you hesitated and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before you dropped it. "And I appreciate the trust. . .if it was something i couldn't handle, I wouldn't have taken the deal, alright?"

"I know," he paused. "What exactly did you get out of the deal anyway?"

You chuckled. "Courage," you said simply. "Doesn't sound like much. . .but I needed it. Courage to pick a decision, to get over the grief, to feel better about myself. . .if I hadn't made that deal, even if I didn't go through with the clinic, I would just be a sobbing mess right now and I know it."

Dean didn't say anything, he just let it sit there between the two of you and you were thankful for that. Usually he would start ranting about how he could have handled it, fixed it, helped you cope, but it would never work. You had made a stupid deal with Crowley, and there was more to it, but that was the big kicker - courage, and his stupid reciprocation.

"I need to contact him soon," you mumbled and grabbed your iPod, turning it off.

"Why," Dean questioned, basically breathing down your neck.

You waved a hand at him, which made him back up a little. "Cus, I wanna talk to him," you chirped, smiling at Sam. "You finally turned that crap off."

"I needed to get him out of here," he pointed the end of his pen at Dean and then went back to writing down whatever he was from the computer.

You chuckled and put your iPod in your bag and sat down on the tiny little couch beside Sam's table. "I'm gonna call him up whenever we get back to the bunker. I'm sure he's tied up right now."

"You two dating," Sam teased.

"Dude, shut up," Dean snapped, falling back onto the edge of his bed. "Why can't you just call him now and get it over with?"

"Maybe we really are secret lovers," you chuckled and he glared over at you. "I just don't wanna deal with him right now, I'm too tired."

"How bout you come over here then," Dean murmured, watching Sam grab his pack and shut the bathroom door behind him.

You smiled softly and stood, sliding into the bed beside Dean. He wrapped an arm around your back and you pressed your face against his side, sighing softly.

Yeah. . .yeah that was just right.

"Wanna fool around?"

You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from your chest and smacked him lightly in the chest. "Sam's here."

"So you _do_ wanna fool around," he snickered.

"Will you shut up," you mumbled, wrapping an arm over his chest. "I need sleep, so keep your mouth shut and let me get that."

"Fine, fine," child spread over your skin when he pressed a kiss into your hair. "Get some rest, babe."

"You're both so cute its disgusting," Sam griped through the crack in the bathroom door.

"Hey, why don't you just take a fucking shower," Dean suggested.

Sam chuckled and shut the door. "He's really annoying," you muttered.

"Yeah, I know."


End file.
